#like she should have been their leliana | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bg3daydream · 29 days

Text

Frescos and Flowers

Solas x Inquisitor Lavellan Fanfiction.

Summary: Inquisitor Lavellan hadn't expected Solas, the mage who made her heart flutter, to know how to paint frescos, much less the reason why he was doing it. Neither was she expecting that she'd try to sneak flowers into Solas' quarters, hoping to make Skyhold feel more like home...and maybe make him smile.

Notes and tags: Fluff, Solas being frustrating with his push and pull about his feelings for Lavellan, Fade-kisses. I just wanted to write something sweet.

Words: 5k

Inquisitor Lavellan walked into the rotunda that Solas had claimed as his space, looking for the mage.

The room was empty, but Lavellan's eyes were instantly drawn to a fresco starting to take shape on one of the walls.

The painted wall was a stark contrast to the other, worn-out and bare walls of the room, which was empty except for the desk full of books and papers that Solas had placed in the middle of the rotunda, some old, broken furniture covered with sheets, and a big couch in which the Inquisitor was sure Solas slept in, instead of claiming a bedroom.

The fresco wasn’t there before, the walls had been as bare and run-down as the rest of Skyhold…was Solas painting it? It looked like so, the paint seemed still fresh and there were brushes and bottles of pigment on a small table placed against the wall. It took Lavellan by surprise, she hadn’t seen many frescos, much less met anyone who knew how to paint those, and she hadn’t imagined it was one of Solas’ skills and interests.

She was still observing the new painting when the door opened and Solas walked in, holding another bottle of pigment, which Lavellan imagined was what he’d gone out looking for.

“Inquisitor,” he greeted, surprised to see her standing there, yet polite as always.

Lavellan almost jumped back from the fresco. She didn’t know why she felt like she’d been caught red-handed, it wasn’t like Solas could demand people not to walk in and see his painting, otherwise he should have chosen a spot that wasn’t right under the library were mages worked and under Leliana and her spies’ quarters. There were bound to be people coming and going from time to time…though, probably they knocked, while she’d just walked right in… hopefully Solas didn’t mind?

“I, uh… I was looking for you,” she explained.

“Something in the matter?”

“Nothing bad, Josephine asked me to let you know she wants us to meet to talk about a noble house she thinks we could talk into helping the Inquisition.”

Solas nodded with a hum, heading towards the fresco and placing the bottle of pigment next to the others.

“I didn’t know you painted,” Lavellan said, to which Solas just nodded again, picking up a small piece of wood that he seemed to be using as a palette to mix the color pigments. “I imagined you were all the time here reading, doing research, studying…brooding…” she teased and Solas gave her an amused look over his shoulder. “Yet here I find you, devoting your time to a hobby.”

“We all have our vices, Inquisitor.” The corner of his eyes crinkled in the way they sometimes did when she managed to amuse him, a gesture that Lavellan found adorable and wished to see more often.

“You’re good at it, I like it.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor, your words are appreciated.”

“I have a name, you know…” Lavellan sighed…She didn’t know why it bothered her that he’d call her just ‘Inquisitor’ all the time but it did.

“I know.” There it was again, that twinkle of amusement in Solas’ eyes. “And it's Inquisitor, judging by how people speak about you around here.”

He was joking, she knew it, and yet…yet he was painfully right. Sometimes it seemed as if she herself were disappearing, drowning, swallowed by her new role…everyone called her “Inquisitor” now, or still “Herald of Andraste” despite her protests, not even at Haven had anyone called her by her name…

The amusement was gone from Solas’ eyes, replaced with concern as he noticed the look on her face, that she couldn’t mask. “I'm sorry, lethallan, I didn't mean to upset you.”

“I know.” Lavellan nodded. “Besides you’re right. Inquisitor, that’s my name now…better than Herald of Andraste anyway,” she couldn’t help the bitterness in her last words. “I like it when you call me lethallan, though.”

She smiled at Solas, and when he returned it, she felt dancing twirls in her belly.

“I will do it more often, then.”

His words made the twirls in her stomach dance even more, and Lavellan turned to focus her attention on Solas’ fresco instead of his face, trying to keep the damned butterflies under control.

“So…what will this be?” She asked as she gestured at the fresco.

Solas briefly looked at her and then back at the fresco, his demeanor changing. Despite being an elf and not only a mage but an apostate, dangerous things to be at that time, Solas always seemed confident and self-assured, but it looked now like her question had made him uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Lavellan said tentatively…maybe his art was something personal and private for him. Then, Solas hadn’t chosen the best place to paint, though, people would be seeing it for sure.

“It’s…” Solas began and stopped, looking at the fresco. “It’ll be the Inquisition story, your story.”

“Oh…” Lavellan didn’t know what to say, she had not expected that…was Solas painting what she was doing, for real?

Solas turned to face her then, looking at her with an intensity that took her by surprise.

“People have a tendency to remember things as they want, not as they were…or to forget them, or twist them, turning them into something else, something that suits them, far from the truth. I don’t want that to happen to you, so I wanted to paint your story, your actions.”

Lavellan still didn’t know what to say, it wasn’t what she had expected, at all.

“I…I uh…thank you, Solas…that’s…” She fumbled to find words and gave up. “It’s not only my story, though, it’s all ours.” She gestured around. “I’m not doing this alone, you all are helping me…I know I couldn’t do this on my own.”

“Mmh…I think you don't give yourself the credit you deserve, Inqui-...lethallan.”

His words combined with the way he looked at her, the fresco he was painting and why he was doing it…the dancing twirls in Lavellan’s belly were getting worse and her heart did something funny.

“Sweet talker…” She murmured.

It was the same she’d called him that night at the Fade, when they had talked as they walked what had looked like Haven, before she kissed him and he kissed her back.

The memory of Solas’s lips on hers, his hands and arms firmly holding her close to him while he kissed her with an intensity she hadn't expected, as if he were starved of her… It did nothing to stop the twirls and the beating of her heart, if anything it made the warmth growing in her belly worse.

She wasn’t sure if Solas’ mind went to the same place, but something flashed through his eyes for a second, before he cleared his throat and turned away from her and back to the fresco. Lavellan hoped she hadn’t made him uncomfortable with her unfortunate choice of words.

“I’ll leave you to it, while we still have free time for a change.”

Solas nodded. “Dareth Shiral, lethallan.”

That night, Lavellan was sitting on her new bed, her back against the wall and her knees hugged to her chest, looking around the room. She was still not used to it. It was massive, the biggest bedroom she’d ever seen, seeming excessive for a single person.

She knew she should be grateful that she’d been given such a room, the best at Skyhold, but she couldn’t help her discomfort… It was so big and so empty, it felt cold and foreign.

The whole of Skyhold felt empty, worn-out, and cold, though improvements were being made. Josephine had gotten workers to fix walls, floors, and roofs and they were working swiftly. Some of her people had also managed to make their spots feel lived in, despite having moved in not so long ago.

Josephine had her big and pretty desk near a fireplace, surrounded by bookcases that, just like the ones Cullen had in his space, were somehow already full to the brim of books. Sera had claimed a room at the tavern, filling it with trinkets, cushions, and what-not, and the Iron Bull and his Chargers were making themselves comfortable at the tavern too. Dorian seemed to take great pleasure in complaining about his quarters but he did seem to enjoy decorating it with what he assured were important stuff but looked just like trinkets to the Inquisitor, and with even more books.

Lavellan hadn’t done much to improve her room, though, she didn’t have anything of her own to fill it. Some people had sent gifts, but she’d felt weird about it, and she’d told Josephine to just place the stuff around Skyhold as she pleased.

Josephine had arranged some things in Lavellan's room too, though, trying to make it more homey, she knew it, and she appreciated it even if she still felt odd alone in that room.

Now there was a tapestry hanging on the wall in front of her bed, a fluffy rug, a trunk with clothes, a small desk empty except for quill and paper she hadn’t used yet, and a bookshelf with some books chosen by Josephine. Most books were about history, etiquette, but it amused Lavellan to find a copy of High in Hightown by Varric. It’d be the first book she read as soon as she had time.

Still…she missed her clan’s tents, her own tent, her things, her trinkets…she had thought herself independent, yet there she was, missing she wasn’t even sure what… She missed the wilds, too.

The only thing she’d placed for decoration herself was a vase with some wildflowers she picked in the early morning, during the few moments she could still be alone with herself.

It was a small detail, in such a huge, empty room, but it made it feel different somehow, more like home, even.

Looking around the room again, Lavellan thought on Solas’ rotunda. It was so empty too, so cold, although probably the fresco would make it better. She felt flustered once again at what Solas had said, that he was painting her story, her actions…

Her feelings for him just grew each day, the more time she spent around him.

Solas had told her that their kiss had been a mistake, that it couldn’t be, that it was a bad idea…then he did something like that, talked to her the way he did, and sometimes he looked at her in a way…how was she supposed to stop feeling the way she did? She didn’t understand him, though, sometimes he seemed to flirt, encourage her advances, then push her away, just for the same cycle to start again…

It was maddening and yet she still felt the way she did.

Lavellan wondered what Solas was doing now, alone at his rotunda. Was he asleep and dreaming, wandering the Fade? Was he studying? Painting the fresco? Did he feel out of place in that empty, cold room too? Lavellan doubted it, probably he didn’t, but who knew…

Looking at the flowers again, the only thing that felt homey and like herself in the room, Lavellan got an idea.

Lavellan had waited until Solas left his rotunda, trying to look like she was not spying or up to something, and once he’d left, she’d picked up the vase of flowers that she’d arranged earlier that morning. She hoped that not many people had seen the Inquisitor picking wildflowers outside the walls before the sun was even up.

Vase in hands, she took the longer route to the rotunda, up the walls and through corridors that usually were empty, unlike the main hall and other areas of the fortress, hoping that Solas wasn't back by the time she reached the room.

She carefully checked that the rotunda was empty before walking in and rushing to place the vase with flowers on the desk that Solas had placed against the wall, the one empty of books and papers, unlike his table in the middle of the room.

Once it was done, Lavellan tried not to get distracted by the additions to Solas’ fresco and rushed out the same way she had come in before anyone, or worse, Solas himself, could walk in and catch her.

Not much later, she had a meeting with her advisors and companions, as per usual. What wasn’t usual was Solas arriving a few minutes late. He was frowning and seemed in thought, more than usual, his eyes scanning every one of them as if he suspected one of them was the culprit of the mysterious flowers that had appeared in his quarters, and Lavellan fought the impulse to smile.

His eyes lingered on her a bit too long and Lavellan tried to keep her face neutral and not give herself away. She really should be paying attention to what Cullen was saying, though, not sneaking glances at Solas or thinking of trying to get some more flowers on his rotunda the next morning…

On the next day, Lavellan repeated the same process, sneaking into Solas’ rotunda with a new vase of flowers after making sure he wasn’t in. This time, she placed them on the table at the center of the room.

It seemed Solas had worked on his fresco that night, it was bigger now and with more detail than when Lavellan had gone to see him the evening before. They had talked about it, about Corypheus, about the Fade, all while Lavellan tried not to look at the vase of flowers that still stood untouched on the desk by the wall.

As she was leaving, doubt crept into her mind. Why was she doing this? Solas hadn't complained about the emptiness of the room, he probably didn’t feel like her, he didn’t need flowers…did he even like flowers? He couldn’t hate them if he hadn’t thrown out the ones she’d placed there the day before, right?

Cursing at her suddenly overthinking mind, this time Lavellan didn’t leave, and instead he took some steps up the staircase that led to the library on the next floor. She leaned over to see into the rotunda but tried to stay hidden, waiting for Solas to come back.

She didn’t have to wait long, she’d barely hidden when the door opened and Solas walked in. His eyes went instantly to the new vase of flowers on his table and… he smiled. He actually smiled. Lavellan couldn’t help her own smile at it and her heart began beating funny.

Solas looked up from the flowers and straight to where she was hidden and so Lavellan pulled back, trying to rush up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible. She tried to ignore the looks of the mages as she walked into the library, she knew she had a silly smile on her face, but she couldn’t help it.

He’d liked the flowers.

It shouldn’t feel so exciting and thrilling, to get a new vase of flowers in Solas’ quarters, but it did. Lavellan’d picked up some more for herself early that morning too.

She looked around the rotunda, pondering where to place the new vase. She knew she should be quick, Solas could come back at any moment…she felt silly at hiding like that, but giddy at the same, and the idea of giving the flowers directly to him made her flustered.

Focus. Judging by the book he’d left still open on his table, next to the vase of flowers, it didn’t seem like he was going to take long. Lavellan noticed that he was using one of the flowers that she’d first gotten him and that was already drying, as a bookmark…her heart did something funny at it.

She saw that he’d also placed one of the fresh flowers on the small table next to the fresco, where he kept his pigments and brushes…the twirls dancing in her belly were unavoidable now. She decided then that she’d place the new vase of flowers there on that small table.

“I knew it was you.”

Lavellan had barely placed the vase when she heard Solas’s voice, and she looked up to find him walking in from the corridor that led up to the library. He’d been waiting there for her just like she’d been waiting for him the day before.

He was smiling, smug yet sweet too, but Lavellan couldn’t stop how flustered she felt. “I…uh…I’m sorry,” she found herself bursting out those words, she didn’t even know why. She was not sorry.

“What…why?” Solas’ smile faltered for a second, replaced with concern, but then he was smiling softly at her again. “Don’t be. Thank you for the flowers, lethallan.”

“Did you like them?” She asked and Solas nodded.

“Of course I did.” His smile was reassuring, making Lavellan smile again. “But why all the secrecy and hiding?

“I don’t know.” Lavellan shrugged. Because it was too flustering to give him the flowers directly, perhaps. She was not going to say that. “But it was fun.” It was, indeed, she’d felt almost giddy sneaking flowers for Solas.

Solas chuckled, looking at her in a way that made her feel dancing twirls in her belly.

“Dorian’s been having fun too, every time he walks down the library he asks me who’s the admirer delivering flowers.” Solas rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “Should I tell him who’s behind the flowers?”

“No!” Lavellan wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did. “Let’s keep up the mystery.” Solas chucked again, his eyes light with amusement.

Admirer, Dorian’d said…as if someone who was besotted with Solas was leaving him the flowers. It was painfully true and yet…did she want Solas to think that? It was embarrassing, especially if he didn’t feel the same, even if sometimes it felt like he did…

“I’ve been picking flowers for my chamber too,” Lavellan said, as if that could make bringing flowers to Solas feel less intimate. “Trying to make this place more homey.”

“Skyhold is your fortress now. It should feel like your home.”

Solas was nodding to her words, but Lavellan wondered if she should have worded it differently. It was Solas who had gotten them there, who told them about that fortress which could be useful in their current predicament.

“It’s a great fortress, we’re lucky to have it,” she rushed to say. “And I’m sure it’ll feel like home in no time. It already does, with Josephine working on it…and well, with all of you here too. It feels more like home having you all around…having you…”

Lavellan trailed over, stopping her river of words and playing with one of the flowers. Was she saying too much? Being too honest? Too intense?

Without a word, Solas picked the flower she’d been playing with and placed it behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her hair for a moment. Lavellan looked at him. How he was looking at her made her breath hitch.

Solas was looking at her as if she were precious, beautiful, something to treasure. As if he, too, felt like her. He was looking at her like he did that night in the Fade, when she’d kissed him and he’d kissed her back in a way that stole her breath away, holding her so close to him she could just cling to him while they kissed, nothing but him on her mind.

She wanted him to kiss her like that again. Needed it, she’d dare to say

He was so close, he barely needed to lean in and they’d be kissing again. Lavellan placed her hands on Solas’ shoulders, gently, and for a second, it seemed like he’d kiss her, but then he pulled away, like he’d done in the Fade.

“Solas, wait, please,” she called after him. She reached for his hand out of instinct, and was surprised when Solas not only let her hold his hand but intertwined their fingers, as if it were instinctual for him too. He was still turned half away from her. “Please, don’t leave…I thought…if I’m imposing…I’m sorry.”

“No…it’s not that.” Solas shook his head.

“What is it, then?”

Solas kept confusing her, she couldn’t understand what was going on, why he kept pulling back, when it felt like he too wanted to be close to her.

“I…I fear I’ll forget myself again.” Solas breathed out.

If that meant to deter her, it had the opposite effect, even if she still didn’t understand this situation between them, his constant pull and push.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes…” Solas nodded but he sounded and looked almost sad. “Yes, it would.”

“Solas…if there’s something wrong, you can tell me,” Lavellan told him softly.

“I…I can't…forgive me, Inquisitor.” Solas let go of her hand and turned away from her. “Thank you again for the flowers, I appreciate them.” With that, he walked out of the rotunda through the door that led up to the walls.

Lavellan watched him go, confused and frustrated, but she didn’t call for him or try to follow him, she didn’t want to press it. Part of her didn’t want to overwhelm Solas, while the other part was afraid of how Solas might react if she insisted.

He kept dodging and refusing her advances. Maybe she’d misinterpreted him and he wasn’t interested, but he was too polite to say so. But then, what was the way he looked at her sometimes…or the way he’d kissed her in the Fade, as if he couldn’t get enough of her…Lavellan felt warmer every time she remembered his kisses.

Then why did he keep refusing her…even in the Fade… Why did he keep saying that it couldn’t be, that it was a mistake. Something was going on and it drove her crazy that she couldn’t know what, that he wouldn’t tell her.

She hoped it wasn’t something silly like not wanting to risk staining the Inquisitor's reputation or having people talking about it, because she really didn’t care.

Maybe he wasn’t interested in her that way and he really meant it when he said their kiss in the fade had been a mishap.

The thought was enough to sour Lavellan’s mood for the rest of the day.

Lavellan wasn’t sure what had woken her. She looked around her dark room and found a vase with flowers on her nightstand table. She hadn’t put them there and she didn’t recognize the flowers nor the vase. What was going on?

“Lethallan.”

Solas' voice came from her balcony and she made his silhouette in the darkness. Had he brought her flowers? The idea was sweet but she was too confused to appreciate it. Why in the middle of the night. And how had she not woken up when he walked in, placed the flowers next to her, opened the balcony…did she really sleep so deeply?

“Solas…what’s going on, it’s the middle of the night…” Not that she’d have anything against Solas being in her room at night, in fact, it was not an unwelcoming thought, but still, the situation was…odd.

“Come.”

Lavellan got up from the bed, brows knitted together, and approached the balcony, taking the hand that Solas offered.

Looking out, Skyhold looked different, unspoiled by time.

“We’re in the Fade…” She murmured and Solas nodded. “When is this?”

“I don’t know exactly, but a long time ago…come.” Solas tugged at her hand.

He guided her through an oddly empty Skyhold. Lavellan was sure it should take them longer than it did to walk out of the fortress walls but she tried not to question it, she wasn’t sure how things worked in the Fade.

Soon she found herself in a field of flowers like the ones on the vase at her nightstand table, illuminated by the moon and the stars.

“This is so beautiful,” she said as she looked around, taking everything in. When she looked at Solas, he wasn’t looking at the field but at her. “Thank you for bringing me here.” She smiled at him.

“I knew you’d like it.” A smile tugged at Solas' lips “You were the one barging into my dreams the last time, I thought I might come knocking on yours.”

“I still don’t know how this works but…thanks.”

They walked together through the field of flowers, with Solas still holding her hand, and the butterflies in Lavellan’s belly danced faster, faster… He’d come to her dreams to bring her flowers and to take her to a field full of them, under the moon and stars…

Lavellan stopped walking, turning to face Solas and taking his other hand. He was looking at her in that way again, like she was precious… She wanted to hold him to her, kiss him, but she didn’t want him pulling away again.

This time, it was her who let go of his hands and took a step back. Solas frowned, looking at her like a puppy who’s been denied more cuddles, and Lavellan wondered if she was evil for enjoying it a bit.

She didn’t move far, though, just enough to sit down on the ground among the flowers. “Come.” She reached towards Solas again and he took her hand, sitting down next to her.

Lavellan looked at all the flowers surrounding them, and then up at the stars shining in the dark sky. Her eyes trailed back to Solas, who was looking at her in that way that was going to be her end…

“Do you know how to make flower crowns?” She asked.

“I…” Solas blinked at her as if taken by surprise at her sudden question and Lavellan couldn’t help her smile at it. “I can’t say I do.”

“Then, let’s learn together.”

It took a bit, but eventually, Lavellan was happy enough with the flower crown on her hands.

“There.” Before Solas could react, she reached to place the flower crown on his head. “Pretty.” Solas rolled his eyes but…were his cheeks and ears turning pink? “My, is the wise mage Solas blushing?”

Solas scoffed, clearly flustered, but when Lavellan grinned, Solas smiled too. He took the flower crown and put it on Lavellan’s head. “Now, that is beautiful.”

“Sweet talker, always.” She wanted to kiss him so bad…

There was a moment of silence before she spoke again.

“Solas…you said the kiss was an impulsive mistake, that we shouldn’t…that there can’t be anything between you and me,” she began quietly. “But you’ve never told me why...I'm not asking you to tell me right now, but maybe someday, you’ll explain it…just…I just hope you know you can trust me.”

“Inquisitor…” Solas sighed.

Lavellan looked at him, expecting frustration that she was asking again, but he just looked sad in a way that made her want to hold him tight.

"I think…I think you too want to kiss me again,” Lavellan told him and Solas nodded but didn’t move any closer. Lavellan reached to cup his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb when he rested it on her palm, leaning into her touch. “So do it. Do it here, in the Fade, and we can pretend it’s only a dream.”

“No.” Solas moved away from her touch. “No, you know it’s not only a dream. I won’t have you here and pretend it’s nothing when you are awake. It’s unfair to you.”

“You can have me too when we’re awake, you know,” Lavellan told him, arching an eyebrow.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know. And I’ll decide what is unfair to me.” Lavellan knew that something was going on, and she wanted Solas to explain to her what, but not right then. She was tired of cryptic excuses and tangents, of this push and pull between them. “So…stop it and just kiss me.”

She knew he wouldn’t do it if she didn’t take the first step, so she reached to cup his cheek again and leaned to kiss his lips.

For all his talk, Solas kissed her back immediately, reaching to hold her and pull her closer to his body as he’d done the first time, and she clung to him as the kiss deepened.

“This is wrong,” Solas said, pulling away, but he didn’t go far, he was still holding her tight to him and he buried his face on her shoulder.

“So you keep saying…” Lavellan murmured, placing a hand on the back of Solas’ head.

Only he could say something like that after kissing her in a way that stole her breath away, and after pulling her so close she was practically sitting on his lap. Lavellan gasped when he kissed the juncture between her shoulder and neck.

“Because it is,” Solas said as his mouth trailed kisses over her neck. Lavellan didn’t care. She didn’t care for his words nor for his contradictions, not right then, not with his mouth on her skin and her body pressed warmth against hers.

“Hush.” If he stopped now, Lavellan felt she might just die right there in the Fade. She moved to sit more securely on his lap and she felt Solas taking a sharp breath against the skin of his neck at it. “It’s a dream.”

“You know it’s not,” Solas said and Lavellan reached to cup his face with both her hands, making him look at her and stroking his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Let’s pretend,” she whispered as she leaned to kiss his lips again.

Solas didn’t say anything else, didn’t fight it anymore, giving completely into her, kissing her deeply as he held her tight to him.

Lavellan woke up regretfully when the sun began to come up. No. She didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to stay in that flower field in Solas’ arms forever. But it was gone…

Now that she was awake, she couldn’t help but wonder… had it been real? Had she really been in the fade with Solas? Or had it been just a regular dream? It hadn’t felt like only a dream, but how could she know for sure? How could she be certain?

There was no vase with flowers on her nightstand table and the door of the balcony was closed, but she’d expected it, she knew that had happened in the Fade…or in the dream, if it had been just that. But it hadn’t been just a dream, had it? She really hoped not.

Lavellan spotted something on top of the trunk where she kept her clothes, and a smile spread on her face when she realized what it was.

A flower crown.

She rushed out of the bed to pick it up. It was real, and it was made not with the flowers she’d seen on the Fade but with flowers that could be found outside Skyhold walls, like the ones she’d picked for her room and for Solas. He must have sneaked in to place it there without waking her. Who else would have left her a flower crown and made it with those flowers?

Butterflies danced on her belly as she looked at the crown, carefully twirling it on her hands, a big smile on her face. She intended to wear it the whole day, everywhere.

Lavellan couldn’t wait to see Solas' face.

NA:

If I knew how to draw, I'd draw Solas in a flower crown.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. If you liked it, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

Solavellan has taken over my life and mind. I love Solas character, his story, his depth, and I'm in love with his relationship with Lavellan. It's all so beautiful and tragic. I can only wish they'll get a happy ending in DATV.

I'm also incredibly grateful to Solas and Solavellan for giving me the will and imagination to write after so long.

I hope to write more Solavellan, if anyone would be interested in reading it, although writing Solas is incredibly intimidating.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

#solas #solas fanfiction #solavellan #solavellan fanfiction #solas x lavellan #solas x inquisitor #solas x inquisitor lavellan #solas x lavellan fanfiction #solas x inquisitor fanfiction #solas romance

85 notes · View notes

vigilskeep · 4 months

Note

I'm curious what you don't like about dao Leliana? If you've got any posts about it could you please point me in their direction?

i probably have posts somewhere but god knows where they are now. i will present a little overview

and to be clear, because i know this website, this is completely a matter of personal taste in writing and character, i am not, um, cancelling leliana dragonage or having anything but appreciation for those who like her, i am saying i probably wouldn’t want to hang out with her. i am also not attempting to convince anyone or justify anything, i am explaining my own feelings since i have been asked about them. i am going to use language that sounds a little overly harsh because i am trying to express those feelings succinctly without making this post very long by apologising and minimising with caveats about when i do like her

i find her a little grating. i find her characterisation based on her backstory irritatingly inconsistent, with genuinely confusing naivete for someone with a supposedly hardened backstory. she’s a literal bard, and she’s always always on the back foot in dialogue with quicker thinkers who can easily shock and scandalise her, and she believes horrors are too ugly for anyone to write about (literal bard!). i’m also vaguely baffled by the amalgamation of vibes they went for visually, like, idk for example, repeatedly mentioning the supposedly ragged boyish hair of someone incapable of understanding a lack of interest in high fashion and who expresses friendship by talking about nice shoes and hair specifically. it makes me struggle to buy into her as a character, and i find her hard to picture.

i think her compassion for others rings fairly false, possibly just on a poor voice acting level; if they wanted me to believe in it from listening to her dialogue when she chimes in during side quests, they got it wrong, i don’t. those bland comments, as cloying on the tongue as artificial sweetener instead of real sugar, are a let-down when i could have someone more entertaining in the party. i hear her talk and think: i wish i’d brought someone else. and her kindness is often shallow, buying into prejudice easily when left unchecked. which is again, weird for a character whose entire concept is being more worldly than she appears. part of that backstory is also definitely growing up mostly surrounded by elven servants, which makes those biases in that direction even more notable to me than they otherwise would be. she’s someone who’s absorbed in her own internal struggle yet who has never noticed the struggles of those around her until directly confronted. i am constantly disappointed by the missed opportunities with her character, like her mixed cultural identity barely being discussed in a game where the backdrop of the ferelden-orlais conflict being under-explored is to me one of really very few big storytelling mistakes, or like her mechanic where you can ask her about wherever you are—a really fun idea, for a bard!—and she literally never not once has anything interesting to say. like, come onnn. im the worldbuilding enjoyer. hit me with something

some of this is going to be affected also by me having spent the most time with her as my surana, who happens as a character to be a natural born hater, and also predisposed to share some of these feelings. i do find dao leliana much more fun to hang out with when playing a non-elven, non-mage character, but given the in-world context, that in itself is perhaps not a glowing recommendation? (obligatory note again, i am not up in arms that this fictional character has fictional prejudices against fictional people and i in fact think this part is good writing that suits the world. the version of her i adore is, after all, in dai when she has done significantly more wrongs including against elves and mages specifically.) it’s more that kindness should be what leliana has going for her as one of the most prominently good-aligned companions, and i don’t believe in hers. if i’m committing to this being me disliking the character rather than disliking some writing flaw, i could say that i read her compassion as a performance, and that’s something i happen to never really like in a person or character: when they act because they want to look like a good person, and feel like a good person, rather than because they truly care about the impact of their actions. maybe i don’t prefer her in dai because she’s somehow better written; maybe she just drops that mask i don’t care for. hard to say!

also her personal quest has some of the worst writing and acting in the game i never want to hear marjolaine again. please.

#and now for a childish addition: also i cant believe i get leliana and maric gets katriel. i shouldve had katriel #i wouldve treated her right.#leliana enjoyers please dont hate me for this i love your work. i love that you love your girl shes just not for me #top ten posts i am going to regret in the morning. hits that post button

88 notes · View notes

kcwriter-blog · 2 months

Text

Since there has been some discussion about how a young Lavellan might interact with Solas, I thought I would chime in with how an older Lavellan might interact with him.

My Lavellan is in her 30s. She has been a First for some time. That means she has been groomed for a leadership position since her teens. At her age, other clan members will be asking her for advice.

She may not be experienced enough to be considered a haren but she is as knowledgeable as any Keeper about elvish history. She knows herself. She knows her people. She is proud to be Dalish.

So she doesn't give a rat's ass what Solas thinks about the Dalish. At first he's just a weird elf who carries himself like one of the Dalish but doesn't even have a valleslin. She's been taught that non-Dalish elves are to be pitied because they have lost their way. Even as far back as Origins we have a haren telling our Warden that when the elves get another homeland it will be up to the Dalish to teach the city elves how to be true elves. So whether she likes it or not, her first impression will be that he is an elf but not a "true" elf.

So while she asks him his opinion, its not because she thinks he knows more, it's just curiosity. What do non-Dalish elves think about elven culture?

She may say that he "insults her people" but that just drives home the fact that she sees him as different. He isn't one of her people. He isn't Dalish.

What he says is irritating but she can forgive him because he hasn't spent much time with the Dalish and his few experiences weren't positive. He can say what he likes. She's heard worse from the shems.

However, being proud to be Dalish doesn't mean she is going to refuse knowledge just because what she has learned is different from what he is telling her.

Dreamers are important to the Dalish. They are rare but they should be listened to. She's also very, very intelligent. She knows the Dalish don't know everything. If they did, they wouldn't be trying so hard to put together the puzzle pieces that are all that remains of her culture.

She is a confident woman. She is mature. She understands her strengths and weaknesses. She knows it isn't weak to ask for help. She knows leadership is about collaboration. In some ways she is more mature than Solas.

So she listens. She compares what she knows with what he tells her and decides for herself if it makes sense or not. She doesn't believe him just because he is older than she is. She takes in knowledge from many sources including the ruins they visit, the scrolls and books in the library, what other elves say. She analyzes the data and comes up with her own set of beliefs.

She views Solas as someone in need of protection. She tells him she will protect him anyway she has to because she knows the shem could imprison him, make him Tranquil or execute him if they feel like it. She is lucky. She has a seat at the table. She chooses to exercise her power by protecting him.

Solas isn't a mentor to her. Yes, he knows a lot and yes, he gives her good advice but so do Cullen, Josephine and Leliana. He is a colleague. She may trust him more because he is an elf. She may spend more time with him because they share some of the same experiences (as far as she knows) but at the end of the day he is basically someone who can help her do her job. It can even be argued that when she becomes Inquisitor she becomes his boss.

Solas may start out thinking of himself as a mentor or at least a teacher but it is not their dynamic. He gives the information freely. She can take it or not. Does he get frustrated if she doesn't listen to him? Sure. I get frustrated with my friends when they don't listen to me but I can't make them.

I think by the time they get to Skyhold they are on a more equal footing. They respect one another. They may even think their first impressions were wrong. And they may fall in love.

I've always seen their relationship as an equal one with a lot of give and take. As players we know who he is but our Lavellans do not. So there is no real power dynamic at play. He isn't her boss. He knows a lot and gives her advice but that does not put him in a position of power over her. He acknowledges that every time he apologizes or concedes to her.

How will she deal with him 10 years later? She has had a lot of time to reflect. She was in a position of power. She realizes he is right. Sometimes there are only terrible choices left. She had to leave Hawk or Alistair in the Fade. Hell, one of her decisions resulted in the destruction of her clan.

So she understands that Solas once had to make a terrible choice. He regrets it the same way she regrets some of her decisions. She knows there are things she would do differently if she could. She would give anything to change some things.

She understands how being in power erases your identity. She knows that sometimes you can become the person everyone believes you to be even if you don't want that. She knows what he went through. She went through the same thing. She knows the world will decide who you are without ever getting to know the real you. She also knows that you can never really leave all of that behind.

With age sometimes comes wisdom. She understands him better now than she did when they first met.

She has had time to learn more about the Veil. She can see that its presence has caused a lot of suffering. She has come to the conclusion that Thedas would be better off without it. She just wants it done in a way that results in as few lives lost as possible.

She has had time to reflect on their relationship. She was very angry at the time but has let it go. She understands why he broke it off. She understands him well enough to know that he is broken and not capable of having a real relationship until he has dealt with his shit.

Her feelings for him have actually deepened because she understands him better now. So when they meet again she isn't going to be plotting his downfall. She's not going to jump into his arms either. There is a lot of water under that bridge. From her perspective they have a job to do. They can talk about their relationship afterwards.

Whatever happens they will deal with it like the mature adults they have always been.

#solas #dragon age #solavellan #dai #solasmance #fen'harel #solas dragon age #solas dread wolf #solas meta #dragon age meta

105 notes · View notes

v-arbellanaris · 3 months

Text

i love in hushed whispers, though i definitely think cotj is more fun as a quest, & at the same time i wish the quest were a little less... clunky? a little less one-and-done? retrospectively from trespasser, it's clear that ihw is supposed to parallel solas' own ambitions, but throughout, it also parallels corypheus' decisions to shape the world in the image he knows and is familiar with, and so i really wished those themes had been addressed a little less... clumsily i guess. idk its hard to say but the writing for ihw feels a little loose - the horror of the reality in front of you because it's Wrong and it Shouldn't Be like this, and there are hints of it, but i wish the wrongness had a more visceral impact? i suppose in a lot of ways this was related to game mechanics but hmmmmmm....

slowly starting to hear the song/singing surrounded with red lyrium as you progress through the game, the anchor not working properly/suddenly deteriorating like in trespasser bc of how damaged the veil is, your companions themselves having lyrium growing out of them (+ being "its not as bad as it could be" about it), actually having demons talk to you/try to tempt you as you fight them, reality itself being suddenly flexible (parts of the ground suddenly disappearing or a giant chasm where you have to Believe to cross it - OOOOH something similar to the gauntlet of shar???)....

my fav parts of ihw are when leliana gets furious with you for acting like this world didnt matter and its all just pretend, as if she didnt really suffer. i wish that had been capitalised more - dorian blithely going around saying dont worry we'll go back and erase everything and make none of this matter should have some more impact... more arguments w your companions abt the decision youre about to make to erase everything they know as if everything they suffered wasnt real! i've got a few more ideas but curious abt what everyone else might've wanted to see in ihw

#vee rewrites da #vee plays da #vee plays dai

72 notes · View notes

crossdressingdeath · 1 month

Note

DAI does that with a lot of things. Morrigan gets to claim to be a Elven expert, even though you know that is far from the truth if you've played Origins where she didn't know shit. Cullen gets final say in his dialogue options despite you knowing that he's lying. Grey Wardens gets shit on and the Inquisitor can wildly overstep.

DAI has this weird mix of a) expecting you to have read all the books/comics so that they don't have to explain anything and b) assuming that you haven't played the previous games so they can try to rewrite what happened.

Yeah, the required reading for DAI was ridiculous. WEaWH is always the big one because most of the others you can get by without it (even Cole's backstory isn't necessary to appreciate and understand the character, and enough of it comes up in-game to get by), but knowing what Celene and Gaspard did is kind of fucking important, Bioware. And then even when Celene purging the alienage comes up it's used as a mark against Briala for being in a relationship with her at the time even though if I'm understanding the excerpts I've seen of TME Briala breaks it off as a direct result of the purge and (as Dorian rightly points out) that'd be more Celene's scandal than Briala's anyway. Like, they try to make Celene purging the alienage into Briala's crime because she was sleeping with the empress at the time and that's just... ugh. But it's like, I would argue that it would be fair and honestly best practice to assume that people playing the third game in a series have played the first two games? DA has an overarching narrative even if the connections aren't particularly close, if someone wants to start partway through they can but the writing should expect people to be familiar with the games' stories. Maybe have some codex entries summarizing the previous games or a little intro cutscene, but... I don't know, I'm worried about the fact that apparently DAV doesn't need you to have played the first three games when literally all the setup for it is in DAI. Expecting people to have played all the games in a narrative-driven RPG series and not to have jumped in partway through is fair! Expecting people to have read five supplementary novels and two coffee table lore books to understand the plot is ridiculous. At least Tevinter Nights and The Missing so far seem to only be relevant to DAV in that they show some glimpses of what's been going on between games and give us a point of reference for some of the new characters...

The thing that gets me with DAI is that the game really wants you to side with the Templars whether it makes sense or not. Like... let's take the choice between mages and Templars as an example. The game wants you to side with the Templars. It really does, it tries its best to dissuade the player from siding with the mages if you go that route (Cullen's little "Oh... it's so dangerous... we shouldn't do it..." routine is notable when compared to Leliana and Josie, both of whom favour the mages, being very professional about you picking the Templars), it does its utmost to claim that the rebellion was unwarranted when it absolutely was not, the rebels are constantly framed as weak or mean or evil or stupid while the Templars were just misled (by... a guy who told them he'd let them murder all the mages and left out the "in service to Corypheus" bit, they still joined his little walkout to murder people, but the game doesn't get into that), it even lets you switch quests well past what should've been the point of no return if you're on the mage route (WHY CAN YOU SWITCH AFTER LEARNING THERE'S A FUCKING MAGISTER IN FERELDEN TRYING TO ENSLAVE A BUNCH OF MAGES, BIOWARE, WHY THE FUCK IS THAT AN OPTION) whereas with the Templars you can't even learn what your advisors' plan for getting you in alive is until you're locked in. And I'm not going to lie, CotJ is legitimately the better quest. I did it once to see and god damn it is quality, I don't dislike IHW but... yeah CotJ is definitely stronger.

But then you actually look at the story and... why the fuck would you side with the Templars? They left the Chantry because the Divine told them not to murder people. That's explicit, people tell you that repeatedly. They're making excuses for it, but there's always an acknowledgement that... yep, that's why the Templars left, they wanted to kill people and were mad about being told no. Leliana (the most familiar face among the advisors and given Cassandra's previous appearance was threatening Varric and Cullen's was playing yes man to Meredith for nine years and only changing sides once she became a threat to him/because not doing so would mean fighting Hawke Leliana's the one people are most likely to want to side with) is pro-mage and dismisses Cullen's claims that the Templars could help close the Breach as speculation. Which... it is. This situation is completely unprecedented, no one knows what's going to happen. But given mages are incredibly powerful and Templars are repeatedly portrayed as mostly useless in any sort of real danger that doesn't involve children or indoctrinated Circle mages (it is not a coincidence that the only people locked in the tower in Broken Circle who survive with their minds and bodies intact without the demons actively choosing to let them live for funsies are mages; the only Templar who's alive and unpossessed is Cullen, and the demons very obviously could've killed him at any time and just chose not to because they were having fun toying with him) I'm gonna say the mages are a safer bet. Also because... they invited Quiz. That could be a trap, but you know what's definitely a trap? Walking into a fortress full of heavily-armed mage killers who openly want you dead. Meeting with the Templars is really, really stupid (especially if you're a mage) and you don't even learn the plan for getting you inside unharmed until you actually select the quest. Also that plan is basically just "if there are witnesses with societal power the Templars can't murder you unprovoked" because reminder: the Templars are the absolute worst. Why would you ever want these people around. And then if you meet with the mages first like "Well I'll figure it out once I've heard what they have to say, I don't have to commit if I do things this way so I might as well" you learn that there's a Tevinter magister serving an evil Tevinter cult just chilling in Redcliffe and why the fuck would you go to the Templars at that point this needs to be dealt with. The game wants you to side with the Templars but it gives you no reason to do so, I really wonder sometimes if the writers weren't talking to each other at all.

#dragon age inquisition #asks #anon #long post

31 notes · View notes

inquisimer · 5 months

Text

dragon age character study fic recs

I'm back with another fic rec list, this time focusing on character studies! There were so many more than five that I flagged as interesting 👀 when I was putting this together, so there's definitely a chance that this theme makes a repeat in the future.

Check these awesome fics out! And leave a comment + kudos to let the author know you did💜

Vote in this poll to help me choose a theme for next week's rec list (:

New Tricks by Penknife (@penknife)

Dorian Pavus & Cullen Rutherford, Josephine Montilyet & Cullen Rutherford & Leliana | G | 1968 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: Five times Cullen found that he didn't have to do everything the hard way. Mer's Rec: If you're into Cullen & Dorian friendship, or really any Cullen friendship, this fic will be right up your alley. Penknife does an excellent job of contrasting Dorian as a beleaguered academic (beloved) with Cullen's quieter intelligence. They also highlight Cullen as a strategist and commander, not just the "send the troops" guy, and the advisor interactions resonate with coworker friend energy, which I loved. I always adore fics that explore Cullen's habits and traits leftover from so many years as a Templar and this story seamlessly weaves in those details, which brings a real depth to both Cullen and his interactions.

Names Are Cloaks by EllanaSan

Female Adaar & Josephine Montilyet | G | 2963 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: They can’t have that, she supposes, the Herald of Andraste being called names behind her back… The only way the situation could have been worse is if she had been an elf. She could tell the ambassador that there are people in this very camp disrespecting her at every turn but she is far too used to it to care. They call her oxwoman. They call her witch. They call her chosen or your worship. They call her Tal-Vashoth. Names are weapons. For the bearer to hold and to wield. Names are cloaks. For the bearer to wrap themselves in and discard when outgrown. Mer's Rec: With Bioware's scant lore about Qunari and the Qun, I was impressed by how this story immersed me in Adaar's history. Tidbits from canon interwoven with fascinating-slash-heartbreaking details about the Qun, Vashoth, and Saarebas, plus her introspective musings on the past and her identity make this Adaar stand out from the cookie-cutter protagonist in the best way. I want to know more about her! From Josephine's dialogue and mannerisms to the uncertainty, fear, and alienation the Herald can experience in Haven, everything about this story feels like it could be straight out of the DAI canon.

I have outlived the night by lilith_morgana (@senseandaccountability)

Loghain Mac Tir, Minor/Background Relationships | T | 2106 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Author's Summary: He's five, he's eighteen, nineteen, twenty, forty-six, and fifty-five, he's fifty-six, fifty-seven and ready to die. Instead, he lives. Mer's Rec: The emotion in this fic is so palpable, so visceral, and it slaps you in the face the way careful consideration of complicated characters should. With repeated contrasts between Loghain in his youth versus his later years, the author takes us on a journey from hot-headed kid to weary veteran, and it just makes your heart ache😭 It features strong exposition on Loghain's motives, feelings, and regrets during the Fifth Blight, which I love to see since it's fairly absent from the game itself. Their portrayal of Loghain in Inquisition also felt fresh and different, including a conversation with Cullen, which is a dynamic I hadn't considered before and found incredibly interesting to read. And of course it ends on a bittersweet note, as it always does with Loghain.

To Yield Is Not Weak by disasterhawke

Alistair/Anora Mac Tir | M | 4018 words | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Author's Summary: She may not like her new husband, but Anora Theirin is not about to let the world treat him like it has treated her. She will do whatever it takes to earn his trust. This is not quite what he expects. An Anora character study that explores her arranged marriage to her husband's bastard brother. Mer's Rec: this 👏 was 👏 everything I wanted out of an Alistair/Anora fic! While I think antagonism between those two has a place, this fic explored their relationship through the lens of teaching and working together, rather than animosity. It works SO well and there was a definite give-and-take, with Anora running the show immediately post-coronation, but gradually softening her harsher edges and highlighting Alistair's strengths while they grow as rulers. Anora's internal monologue, not only about Alistair, but also Cailan and Loghain, does a fantastic job showing the humanity she usually has to hide, without diminishing her competence in the least.

when the bough breaks by gummies (orphaned)

Morrigan, Flemeth | G | 1124 words | No Archive Warnings Apply Author's Summary: In her hands, the mouse is kept still. The only movement Morrigan feels from it is the beating of its tiny heart. With her eyes closed, it almost seems that she is holding in her hands its heart alone. Tiny, vulnerable, and so stutteringly fast. It must be afraid, Morrigan muses. Something twinges in her chest. Empathy. She cannot help the flare of protectiveness inside her. For now, the mouse is hers. Plucked from the world from whence it came, tucked away and safe. She wonders if this is how Mother feels of her. Mer's Rec: What struck me most about this fic was the author's grasp of character voices. Flemeth is just as cunning and calculating as she comes across in game, but I was beyond impressed by their young!Morrigan. I could see and hear so clearly how Morrigan would get from the childlike hope she has in this story to the harsher, bitter Morrigan we meet in game. I don't even know how they did that, but it was incredible to read, even as this slice of Morrigan's childhood and her abuse at Flemeth's hands was breaking my heart.

Don't forget to get your fic and art recs lined up for tomorrow's Fan Work Friday!

#fic rec #dragon age fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #long post #dragon age inquisition #adaar #cullen rutherford #dragon age origins #loghain mac tir #anora mac tir #alistair theirin #morrigan #dao #dai #dragon age #dragon age fic rec

63 notes · View notes

shift-shaping · 3 months

Text

another ale at noon

solas, blackwall, and varric have another boys' night. day. it's like the middle of the day. boys' brunch.

rating: t

pairing: solavellan (discussed)

warnings: alcohol

previous fics | 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

"So Solas is Chuckles, I get to be Hero, which is quite nice of you, Sera is Buttercup, Bull is..."

"Tiny," Varric said with a grin.

"Very creative," Solas added dryly.

Blackwall frowned. "Who else was there?"

"I believe I've heard you call Commander Cullen 'Curly,'" Solas offered, and Varric nodded, obviously enjoying the attention. "And Josephine, Ruffles."

"But you just call Cassandra 'Seeker.'” Blackwall recalled. “Why is that?"

Varric laughed, a bit nervous, and looked towards the door of the tavern as if Cassandra could enter at any moment. "I'm not calling Cassandra anything she doesn't want to be called. I'm already on her shit list."

Solas hummed, and sipped from his drink. "Enaste used that term the other day --'shit list.'"

Blackwall grinned at Varric underneath his untidy beard. "So you're a bad influence, then."

"I'm sure the Dalish have their own curses." Varric waved his hand dismissively. "She's heard it all before."

"I heard she called Cassandra a 'cunt'." All three men looked up at the barmaid, who must have been eavesdropping. "Sorry. You didn't hear it from me."

That got another laugh from Blackwall. "No, that can't be true."

"Sera told us, just the other night! I guess Lady Cassandra told the Inquisitor she needed to put the Inquisition above the needs of her clan, or something."

"That would piss her off," Varric agreed.

"Are you sure Sera wasn't exaggerating?" Blackwall was thoroughly amused by all this, and admittedly Solas couldn't blame him. Enaste was nearly a religious figure to him --hearing her curse in common was probably very entertaining. "Maybe Sera just wanted an excuse to say 'cunt.'"

"Sera needs no excuse to curse," Solas added, and Blackwall laughed again in agreement.

"Well like I said, you didn't hear it from me. Did you lot want another round?"

"Sure," Varric gestured at the table. "What's another ale at noon?"

The barmaid left to get their drinks, and Blackwall shifted in his seat. "So if everyone gets nicknames except the people you're afraid of, does that mean you're scared of Lavellan?"

"No," Varric laughed, then paused. "Well, maybe. Should I be?"

"I don't know," Blackwall shrugged. "She can be harsh, but she's fair."

"It was interesting to see how she handled that magister, Alexius." Varric said. "From her description of what happened at Redcliffe, I thought she'd have his head on a spike." He shook his head, brows furrowed. "She just sent him to work with Leliana, right?"

Blackwall nodded. "Much kinder than the bastard deserved." He sighed and shrugged. "Mercy is a good thing though. Better to follow too merciful a leader than a cruel one."

The barmaid returned with their drinks, and Solas realized he'd actually finished one. He thanked her as she took the empty tankard away. "So if you aren't afraid of her, Varric, why haven't you given her a nickname?" He asked, and Varric thought for a moment before responding.

"It feels weird, I guess. She's the Inquisitor, that's her nickname."

"I think you can do better," Blackwall teased.

Varric rubbed his chin. "I'll think about it. It has to be natural, you know? You can't force these things." He sighed and leaned back, then took a long drink from his tankard. "I could ask her uncle for ideas, I guess. You know, I've never seen an elf with a beard like that." He chuckled. "It's downright dwarven."

Blackwall nodded to Solas. "Did you know he was coming?"

Solas shook his head. "No, and neither did she."

"We're a long way from the Free Marches. Dangerous route, too."

"That's family," Varric said. "I'm not surprised her clan is worried. An elf tied up with all this chantry shit? It never ends well."

"We have to make sure it does," Blackwall replied with an oddly reverent certainty. "She has a duty to the world, but we have a duty to make sure she doesn't die performing it."

Solas looked at Blackwall curiously. "Back in Haven you said you didn't care if she was actually chosen by Andraste. Do you still feel that way?"

"You were there, we all were." He gestured vaguely towards the Frostbacks. "She's insisted time and again she's not chosen by Andraste and doesn't believe in the Maker. But when it came down to it, she was willing to give her life for a bunch of people she doesn't even like." He shook his head as if in awe. "So no, I still don't care if she's chosen by Andraste. She's a woman worth following, and she’s trying to make things right."

"I think she mostly follows you," Varric joked. "I don't know how you can go running into battle headfirst like that. I'm surprised you still have most of your teeth."

"That's why I'm here," Blackwall raised his tankard, then took a long drink before slamming it down. "So you three can keep your pretty faces intact."

"Oh, speaking of pretty faces," Varric said, remembering something and turning to Solas. "Do you know how she got those scars on her face?"

Solas had spent much too long staring at those scars for her not to have told him about them. But she wasn't self-conscious of them, so he assumed it was fine for him to divulge. "A fishing accident, in her youth," Solas replied.

"A fishing accident?" Blackwall asked incredulously. "What a woman." The way Blackwall talked about Enaste was always illuminating. He seemed somewhere in-between worshipping her and being in love with her. Perhaps he had to be, to put himself in so much danger for her so often.

"I wonder if she's found a place nearby to fish," Solas said, frowning. There were streams here and there, enough to provide the keep with fresh water, but none of them that he knew of were deep or productive enough for fishing. "She used to fish from the lake near Haven. It gave her some peace from all the chaos."

"Did you notice, in Crestwood, how she looked at those crab traps on the beach?" Blackwall asked, grinning, and Solas couldn't help but smile back. Enaste had tried to be subtle, but it was impossible not to notice her casually wandering along the waterline and leaning over the traps. Sera teased her for it, and she'd been predictably defensive. It made for a surprisingly light-hearted moment amidst so much doom, and Blackwall had promised to take her to a real seafood market some day. That led to Sera calling her 'fishbutt,' which didn't make any sense but was amusing regardless.

Solas sipped from his drink, still smiling at the memory. "Yes. She said she prefers eating crab, but catching fish. Apparently her uncle is particularly skilled at preparing it."

"You two spend a lot of time together," Varric observed. The comment put Solas immediately on edge, but Varric went on before he could say anything. "Don't get all pissy, Chuckles. It's okay, really." He paused, his expression suddenly gentle, and sighed. "She likes you. That's a good thing. And maybe she's just glad to have another elf around."

"I imagine she is, yes." Solas still had no interest in pursuing this conversation with them. He enjoyed the company of Varric and Blackwall, but their attempts to pry into his relationship with Enaste were grating. It was an entirely private matter, and he owed them no explanation.

His icy response left an awkward pause, just as it had every time they’d brought it up before. After a few tense moments, Varric pushed himself from the table and stood. "I'll be right back, nature's calling."

Blackwall and Solas were fully capable of sitting in comfortable silence together, and often did in the field. Now, though, there was a weight to the silence that made it uneasy. Solas chose to ignore it, and instead stared out over the tavern blankly. It was slower now than it would surely be in a few hours, when the soldiers finished their afternoon training and came to relax. Maryden was tuning her instrument, occasionally strumming lazily, giving the tavern an atmosphere of lighthearted anticipation.

When Blackwall finally spoke, his voice was gentler than before, and lower, too, as if he didn't want them to be heard. "I like you, Solas. You know that." Solas frowned at him, unsure where this was going, but said nothing. "I know you've seen a lot in your life, and maybe I'm in no place to give you advice. But I'm just going to say it, and you can do with it what you please," Blackwall took a deep breath. "Life is short, and hard, and then you die. I know you want to maintain a... professional relationship with the Inquisitor, and I know you don't want to hurt her reputation, but I've seen the way you look at her." He sighed heavily. "Just… take it from me: don't let your pride get in the way of something good."

There was no teasing in his voice, no playfulness, just an earnest man sharing his thoughts. Solas looked away, quiet for a while longer. It was more poignant than Blackwall could possibly know, and in a way, he was right. "Thank you," Solas said finally. "You make a fair point. I will... consider it."

Blackwall nodded gruffly, and took another long drink. Varric returned soon after, and broke out a deck of cards. Playing Wicked Grace with the two of them was a ritual Solas had become accustomed to, as even at camp Varric always had a deck of cards. Enaste joined them on occasion, and one memorable evening most of the camp played a massive game together. He preferred it like this though, and not just because Blackwall had a tendency to bet far too much. It was quieter, easier, and he didn’t have to think quite so much about how to fill the silence.

<- prev fic | next fic ->

#solavellan #blackwall #varric tethras #solas #dragon age #glimpses #enaste lavellan #i promise i'll put these on ao3 soon #i just need to come up with a title #thank you to everyone reading though T.T #this one is essentially just dialogue

41 notes · View notes

buttsonthebeach · 2 months

Text

Anywhere But Home

Back to writing Solavellan angst and it feels so goooood

Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas (past); Marian Hawke x Merrill (past)

Rating: M for Mature - sexual themes and images

Triggers and Spoilers: Hawke is lost in the Fade; spoilers for Tevinter Nights

Summary: Nine years post-Trespasser, Ellana tries her best to move on.

His name was Varlan and Ellana hadn't seen him since the summer before she became Inquisitor, and when she slept with him, what she was really doing was slipping into an old self to see if it still fit, like the person she had been that summer was an old pair of trousers in the back of a drawer. She'd just forgotten about her. She could try her on again.

He wasn't an Inquisition agent - because of course she couldn't even dream of sleeping with any of them. And he wasn't some hero worshipper fascinated with the myth of her - because every one of them that had approached her since she became Inquisitor made her skin crawl. He wasn't a nobleman whose aims and ends she couldn't trust.

He was just Varlan of Clan Alvar, and they happened to be at the same inn, each passing through on their way to somewhere else. Her to Kirkwall. Him back to his clan.

“Ellana?”

And it was probably the fact that he said her name. It startled her at first - she was tying up her horse at the hitching post and he was just passing by, her hood was still mostly up, she was traveling alone, she was so used to being called Inquisitor or my lady. But then she saw him, recognized him, and it felt good. Just Ellana.

Clan Lavellan and Clan Alvar were close, both Marcher clans that overlapped in their roaming a few times each year, making him one of those people she couldn't actually remember meeting for the first time. He'd just been there. They'd slept together twice before, the last time being that summer before she left for the Conclave, twelve years ago now. So she could know, after passing a flask of whiskey back once or twice while reminiscing about old times in the room she let, that he really wanted to sleep with her for old time's sake and nothing more. She didn't take him up there with that intention - not really - but when it happened, she wasn't sorry.

Dorian had been after her about it anyway. Leliana, too. Gentle at first as the years went on and then more direct, he can't have been that good of a lay morphing into it's been 5 years and you deserve happiness, you know. Ellana, don't you think it's time to…? Maybe this would appease them.

And the first kiss did take her breath away. Not because she was in love with Varlan but because it had been nine years now since someone kissed her. His skin on her skin was exhilarating and too much - she kept her shirt on the whole time, and so did he. And gods it did feel good, it did, the weight of him -

“I'm clean,” he murmured. “If you wanted to…?”

“Me too,” she said, and it hurt even though it shouldn't. She knew she was clean because it had been eleven years since she lay with anyone. “I do.”

“Do you take a brew or should I…?”

That question hurt the worst somehow. She had just turned 39. And there was a part of her that wanted to lie, to not take her brew after he left (because he would leave), because she was getting older, and maybe this was her last chance -

“I do, but maybe to be extra safe…?”

“Of course.”

And gods it was good to feel him move in her, it was familiar, the roll of her hips and the delicious tension in her muscles and yes, it was her first time doing this since the loss of her left arm, but she could almost ignore that. Could almost pretend it was summer, an open field, stars above, and she was just herself. She'd go back to the circle of aravels after this. Restring her bow. Breathe in the woodsmoke. Hunt in the morning.

“I'm glad the gods brought us back together,” he said before he left. “And that they have kept you safe.”

She was sure he didn't intend the words to be cruel. But Halamshiral’s hallways echoed in her mind all the time now, and instantly she analyzed it. He did not ask about the vallaslin. She considered it a blessing. Perhaps he knew? Word had spread through the clans. But he still believed in the gods, still thought they kept her safe. So he knew and still believed?

Why was he conveniently at the same inn as her, at the same time, why had the conversation gone so easily, why had they slipped so easily into old familiar ways?

She banished the thoughts. It was fine. This was fine. She had moved on. She could move on. She carried on to Kirkwall, got settled in to her estate, had dinner with Merrill. Tried to stay in the same skin she'd found briefly with Varlan. Back to Ellana, just Ellana.

“About time!” Dorian said when she called. “Now, perhaps Mae and I can start finding someone eligible for you here in Tevinter. Make me a list and you know we'll make it so. I already have a house picked out for you in the countryside near my villa.”

His words were so bright and so brittle they might snap if he forced himself to be any cheerier. Ellana let out a dry laugh, tried to come up with a witty reply, and found her throat closed. What did she want?

“So I can't just move in alone? Varric gave me a whole house and a key to his city without insisting I have a partner.”

The crystal crackled. She thought maybe she heard a sigh.

“Of course not. Shall I send you the contract? Right after I get this bill passed about elves being able to own property of course.”

“Ah yes, that pesky little thing. Tell me how that's been going.”

“Oh, my friend,” Merrill said that night when Ellana recounted the conversation. How she had not even been able to make a list of what she might want in a future partner. “I don't think I could, either.”

Because Merrill had spent the last eleven years waiting and longing, too.

But Ellana kept trying. What would she want? She looked around Merrill’s table whenever there was a group for dinner. Most of her friends were elves from Kirkwall's alienage. Ellana had always envisioned herself with a fellow elf - but that was when she was young and living with her clan, so of course she assumed she'd bond to someone Dalish. Did that have to be true now? She'd always been with men. Did that have to be true now?

She tried to feel a sense of wonder and possibility. She was arguably the most privileged elf in Thedas, with money, power, and connections in every country. She could envision whatever life she wanted for herself.

The sense of wonder never came.

But Charter did. Back from a teahouse in Hunter Fell, after months of searching and gathering information and coordinating a meeting between spies of every conceivable faction.

“I have news of the idol,” she said. “If you wanted to go get Mistress Hawke.”

She and Merrill both perched, tense, through Charter's tale. It confirmed much of what they had suspected. It was back in the Dread Wolf's hands. That was how Charter referred to him the whole time. Merrill interjected occasionally and called him Fen'Harel. Ellana pretended it was all a story.

“One figure comforting another,” Merrill murmured. “Mythal comforting Fen'Harel himself, if his tales of being her right hand are to be believed? I am more certain now than ever that it was a tool of Arlathan that was blighted, like my eluvian. Perhaps related like the arulin'holm, something used in rituals of creation, lyrium stored directly within to power the spells? One of the implements he used to create the Veil? I never laid hands on it myself. I didn't go into the Deep Roads with Marian, and the fight with Meredith - it was not my focus. I wish I'd had time to see it, study it…”

“That window has certainly closed,” Charter said, shifting her weight, settling into a stance, like she was expecting a blow. “Solas assured me of that.”

Ellana stood.

“He what?”

And then Charter told the end of the tale. The moment she realized the Orlesian bard was not Orlesian at all. How only she and Solas walked out of that room.

The untouched tea.

Her mind circled that detail over and over again until she could smell the fresh plaster in the rotunda, hear the caws of Leliana's ravens, feel the warmth of a hand on her back -

“So he still doesn't like tea?” She finally managed, when she realized Merrill and Charter were staring.

“No, my lady,” Charter said, lowering her eyes.

Ellana hated Charter suddenly. She'd been in the room with Solas. Close enough to touch. She'd heard his voice. Did he look well? Did he look tired? Did he -

“And - Inquisitor, he told me to tell you - that he is sorry.”

It was meant to be a mercy but it felt like a deathblow. Like bleeding out, lungs collapsing, praying there was a healer nearby, eyesight fading.

“Thank you, Charter. That will be all for tonight.”

He is sorry?

“Lethallan,” Merrill said, and let the word hang in the air.

“It’s fine, Merill. You should go.”

“Lethallan.”

He is sorry?

She couldn't talk about this with Merrill. Couldn't ask the woman whose wife she’d left to die to comfort her because the man who willingly left her had sent her a message via a spy, and it was that he was sorry, but he was still going to rip the world asunder.

“Tomorrow. Let's hike to the summit of Sundermount.” The words came from someone else who happened to have Ellana's own voice.

Merrill left. Ellana sat down. She took a breath, then another. She closed her eyes.

He is sorry.

And suddenly, he was in the room with her: Solas Solas Solas Solas. So close she could touch him. She could see him, the sadness in his eyes, hear the hitch in his quiet voice.

Tell the Inquisitor - I am sorry.

Varlan had been on top of her, in her, fingers in her hair, and he was not as real to her then as that image of Solas was now. As she sat there, choking on the unfairness of his words.

He was sorry, but he was still gone. And she was never going to be the same again without him. All the Varlans in the world couldn't change that. All it would take was one word, one dream, to bring her back to the way he looked at her, the way he shook his head, kissed her again. To come, while the music plays, dance with me.

Ellana went to bed and allowed herself to imagine that Solas was down the hall, painting. That she had called for him already, sleepily, that he said he'd be there in a moment. That right when she was on the edge of sleep, he slid into bed, threaded an arm around her waist, and kissed her. He would be warm, solid, large behind her, but he would melt into her too, lean his weight against her - each of them leaning on each other, sheltering each other. And as she imagined it, she felt it - wonder. Bright as midday sun.

She woke alone, flecks of red in her smalls warning her that soon another chance would be gone (even though Varlan had pulled out and she had taken her brew because she knew, knew she couldn't be a mother now, not now, not without him). She went downstairs, saw the letters that had arrived overnight, all addressed to the Herald and the Inquisitor. The final reminder that, Solas or no, there was no way back to that summer field twelve years ago. The world had destroyed Ellana Lavellan and raised up something else instead. Harding said it in the Frostback Basin. Once you are more than a person to someone, you're also less than a person to them. So there was only forward. Deep breath in, out again. Just keep going.

Merrill was already at her door, bags packed, ready for the long day. Smiling even though her eyes were sad. The path up Sundermount felt longer, Ellana's footsteps heavier than usual. She could go anywhere she wanted but home, could have her choice of lovers but not the man she loved. Everyone knew her name but she hardly knew herself anymore, some days.

But then they were at the summit, looking out over Kirkwall and the sea, and if her footsteps didn't feel any lighter, she at least felt equal to their weight again.

“Varric will want to know about the idol,” Merrill said at last.

“Yes. I'll go see him tomorrow. I think he'll be even more involved now that we know for sure Solas has it. It will be even more personal.”

“You are his friend. It has been personal from the beginning.”

Ellana sighed. There were ships out on the sea. What if Solas was on one of them?

“I wish it was only about duty. Only about serving Thedas. For all of us.”

“Would you really wish that you had never met Solas? Never loved him?”

I felt the world change.

“No.”

“It's a good thing he is sorry. That means there is hope.”

A bitter laugh rose in Ellana's throat but she swallowed it down. Hope was a meager thing to live on, year in and year out. But Merrill knew that better than anyone.

“Yes. There is hope.”

They sat up there, breathing hope in and out together, and then they carried it back with them to Kirkwall.

#beach writes #solavellan hell #Ellana lavellan #Tevinter nights spoilers #merrill #f!Hawke x merrill #Marian hawke #angst #Hawke is in the fade #hey remember that time that I suspected that “dread wolf take you” was 5 years post-trespasser #ish #and then I decided I wanted it to be right before veilguard #because I liked it better for where Ellana is at only year before the game starts #pepperidge farm remembers #I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS

34 notes · View notes